Welcome to Night Vale, Johnny C
by Sherlocked Gallifreyan
Summary: Johnny finds himself in Night Vale with no idea how he got there or where he even is. To his surprise, he feels quite at home in the odd little desert community.


A/N: I'm not entirely sure what really inspired this story. I started writing, and it just sort of happened. I do not own Johnny or Cecil. R&R please.

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" 'Scuse me, sir?" the clerk asked. "You lost?"

"Probably," the 'sir' in question said. He looked around, scowling at his surroundings. Why couldn't he remember where he was? Or why he was even there?

"Well, this place is called Night Vale, if that helps," the clerk said.

"Not really, but thanks anyway. I'll just ... look around." He pushed open the door and stepped out into the little desert community. The sky was lavender streaked with taupe and spotted with teal. Strange lights hovered above the Arby's. Night Vale, he decided, was very pretty in a very strange way. He felt ... safe. It was something he couldn't remember ever feeling before. The voices were silent, and the vague, oppressive depression that had haunted him for years didn't seem as heavy.

People greeted him with friendly smiles, nods, and waves as he passed them on the sidewalk. No one laughed at him, no one called him names. He waited for the teasing to start, but it never did. The people of Night Vale didn't seem to care that he looked different than they did. He felt like he belonged, something else that was unfamiliar to him. He liked the feeling, though.

"Free sample, sir?" a voice at his elbow asked. "Today is free sample day in Night Vale!" a freckle-faced girl explained. She held out a small plate with a slice of very delicious looking chocolate cake.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the cake. The cake tasted even better than it looked. He received more free samples as he walked down the main road. Like the girl said, every place that sold life-sustaining matter was giving out free samples. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten that much or that well. Much of his diet back home consisted of whatever he could buy at the 24/7. And most of that was junk food.

As he approached the end of the main road, he paused in front of a clothing store and stared at his reflection in the window. His clothes were torn and tattered and stained with blood. Maybe he should buy new clothes. He shifted his focus from his reflection to the interior of the store. The workers seemed genuinely friendly as they helped shoppers find the perfect shirt.

Before he could think himself out of it, he entered the store. "Be with you in a moment, sweetie," a slightly plump woman called from behind the register.

"No hurry," he said. "I don't have anywhere to be." He browsed the selections, looking for ... looking for ... He wasn't sure _what _he was looking for. The woman came over and greeted him with a pleasant smile.

"Sorry for the wait," she said. "I'm Belinda."

"Nice to meet you, Belinda," he said, finding that, for once in his life, he actually meant that. "I'm Johnny."

"Welcome to Night Vale, Johnny," Belinda said. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"I, uh, ... not sure, really," he said.

"Well..." Belinda said, looking him up and down...

Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? 15 MINUTES LATER Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z? Z?Z?

Johnny left the shop smiling. Belinda was a very nice person. She'd been patient with his indecisivness and just very polite in general. The deep purple and black striped shirt he wore had been her choice. She said it complimented his eyes quite nicely.

The sky was now a dusky rose streaked with gold. It was absolutely beautiful. Johnny wondered if all the sunsets in Night Vale were this beautiful.

It then occurred to him that he had nowhere to stay. "Hotel?" he asked the street lamp as it flickered on. The street lamp had nothing to say.

"There's a hotel two blocks that way," someone said. Johnny looked over at the person to see in what direction he was pointing. A man slightly shorter than Johnny with light brown hair, three eyes, and several tentacles lazily waving behind him pointed toward the setting sun. "If you plan on buying a house or apartment here in Night Vale, the owners let you stay for free until you find your own place." The man closed the gap between them and offered his hand. "I'm Cecil, by the way. Cecil Palmer. I host the local radio show." Johnny shook Cecil's hand.

"I'm Johnny," he said with a slight bow. "Nice to meet you." The phrase was becoming more natural and familiar.

"Nice to meet you, Johnny," Cecil said with a smile. He turned on his heel and set off toward his apartment. "Oh, and Johnny?" he called, turning and walking backward for a bit. "Welcome to Night Vale."

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So there it is. I doubt I'll continue it, but you never know. Plot bunnies are difficult and unpredictable creatures.


End file.
